So here’s my finished poem. Total time: 3 hrs. 27 min.
This year’s like the joke: Two guys, each a Jew.
One says to the other,”How’s things by you?”
His friend replies, trying to hold back a tear,
“Certainly better than they will be next year.”
The stock market crashed, the economy’s frozen,
A crooked investor took a bite from the Chosen.
Lenders got stingy, Detroit’s in a crisis
Even Blagojevich had to lower his prices.
The race for the White House was laced with ill humor
As we choked on the bile of Internet rumor.
Obama’s religion, his birthplace, his pastor -
Every new e-mail brought hints of disaster.
And who would decide the election’s big winner?
Maybe Florida’s Jews – over early-bird dinner?
Would Jews climb aboard McCain’s Straight Talk Flotilla,
And sail on with him and the guv from Wasilla?
At last came November, and we voted like mad
And most Jews admitted Barack ain’t so bad.
And as if to thank us for ignoring the spam,
He offered us Hillary, Kurtzer, and Rahm.
In Israel folks marked their 60th year
With more agita than unbridled cheer.
As more than the peace plan seemed to unravel:
Its prime minister feared the rap of a gavel,
While Hamas and Fatah, the bitterest of frenemies,
Could agree on just this: That Jews were their enemies.
Iran was Iran, up to things deleterious.
In need of a hug, Olmert said, “Let’s get Syria’s.”
In Europe, meanwhile, we note with alack,
That “anti-Semitic” has become the new black.
Polls done in Britain, in France, and in Spain,
Suggested to many It Could Happen Again.
In an Iowa plant that was meant to be kosher,
Its managers’ style just got gaucher and gaucher.
In a workforce of hundreds, it seems the majority
Had a beef with Rubashkin’s hire authority.
The year brought B.Madoff, that number one shvantz. He
Concocted a scheme that was worthy of Ponzi.
He robbed from the rich, and made the rich poorer,
Reducing the mighty to the ranks of the shnorrer.
And speaking of Yiddish: Poor J.J. Putz.
The Mets’ new reliever is gonna need guts.
When he muffs a big game at some crucial junction,
The crowd’s bound to blame projectile dysfunction.
But in times that are awful beyond our belief,
At least Mr. Putz brings some comic relief.
So did Sarah Silverman, a humorous lady
Who asked us to visit our Bubbe and Zayde,
And say that they had to vote for Obama -
A gambit that prompted its own bit of drama
From a miffed Jackie Mason, the comic, who sent a
Rebuttal on YouTube that called her a yenta.
No, two-thousand-and-eight wasn’t all Sturm und Drang;
There were good things as well as the year shlepped along.
Which we hope you’ll remember as you gather with thine
And count all your blessings in two-thousand-and-nine.